


Shades and Feathers

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Deathfic, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for 11/28. Dave gets the news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades and Feathers

\-- turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering turntechGodhead (tg) --

TG: hey  
TG: fuck  
TG: answer already  
TG: fuck please be awake  
tg: what  
TG: listen i dont have much time  
TG: im dying and so is bro  
tg: wait what  
TG: you have to know  
TG: jade prototyped with her motherfucking hellbeast of a dog  
TG: so everythings going to get really shitty really fast  
tg: what the fuck man  
tg: where are you  
TG: doesnt matter  
TG: just had to tell y  
tg: ...  
tg: HAHA THIS IS A REALLY FUNNY JOKE  
tg: LOOK AT ME LAUGHING MY FUCKING ASS OFF OVER HERE  
tg: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
tg: ...

\-- chum turntechGodhead (TG) does not exist! --

tg: what

\-----

Dave freezes.

No.

No fucking way.

No _fucking_ way they're dead.

It's not possible. It does not compute. Doesn't fit into his worldview.

Bro's his one constant - no matter what he does, no matter what happens, Bro will still be there, with his fucking sword and his fucking shades and that stupid fucking puppet. Dave can't imagine a universe with a Bro-shaped hole in it - because no universe like that could possibly exist in his mind.

Davesprite survived so much bullshit, what could possibly - wait.

He scrolls back up, rereading the chat, not even breathing. His chest is tight as he reads, "...prototyped with her motherfucking hellbeast..."

There. That's it. That's why - no. He doesn't finish that thought, just summons the Timetables and spins _back -_

\- and slams down, mere minutes earlier. His fingers grip the record, letting it (letting time) just barely slip past as he _bolts -_

\- to the Mesa, where the battle is nearly frozen. Noir hasn't changed yet, he thinks - he still looks the same. He's raising his sword to block Bro's, and Dave thinks for a (relative) moment how simple, how easy it would be to slide his own broken blade in, feel the dark carapace crack and see blood spurt, end this once and for all...

He clamps down on the record, freezing time completely. Walks closer to the battle, until he's standing there in the center of the triangle. Noir's face is the usual mask of one-eyed rage, twisted and full of hate for everything that breathes. Dave hefts his broken sword. _It would be so easy..._

He turns to look at his double. Recognizes that expression - that little smirk that's half attitude and half habit, and all ironic. Davesprite is scared shitless, desperate not to show it. It's amazing how some things change and some things never do.

One more turn, the face he'd been avoiding. His paradox father. His Bro. The guy who raised him (the guy who neglected him) the guy who prepared him for who he had to become. He's smiling, and this one is surprisingly genuine. Dave can't remember the last time he's seen a real smile on his Bro's face. His pointy shades have slipped down his nose, and his eyes (red eyes, just like Dave's) are ablaze. He's full of fire and anger and a fierce, fighting joy, and Dave can hardly stand to look at him for another second.

He waits to release the record until he's half-hidden on the edge of the Mesa. Forces himself to watch - as green lightning fills the sky, fills Noir, changes him. Watch him raise his sword, and bring it down, down...

He turns his head away. Can't watch the blade slice through orange feathers. Slide into his Bro's stomach. His imagination paints the picture just fine.

Neither one makes a sound. When he opens his eyes again they're both on the ground, side by side. Noir reaches down and picks something up - and that almost does it, almost makes him jump up and go after him, seeing his Bro's shades on _that bastard son of a whore's face_ \- but no. He can't.

He takes Cal too, and Dave's almost pissed about that too. Sure, it's a creepy piece of shit, but still.

He waits until Noir's cleared the battlefield before he's up and running - his sprite's hand is at his shades, probably sending that message, and Dave knocks the glasses off his face as soon as he can reach them. "Fuck. That. Noise."

Orange eyes glare up at him. Davesprite rolls over and tries to push himself up, spitting a glob of glowing blood. "You miserable, worthless piece of shit," he gasps, before his arms give out, and Dave kneels to support his head.

A rasping, coughing laugh comes from Dave's other side, and he turns to see that grin, that shit-eating grin that always pissed him off so much. "Don't forget, he's you, and there's no way in hell you wouldn't have come. Fuck, that's how I raised you - both." Bro laughs again, a bit of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. "This is such a load of horseshit. When did our family get so fucking dysfunctional, guys?"

 _Family. That's what we are._ "I blame the puppets," Dave quips, almost offhand, and that gets another laugh. He reaches out and takes Bro's hand in his. With his free hand he takes off his own shades, and doesn't even give a fuck that his eyes are burning. "Man, fuck you. Fuck you both for this." He didn't mean for that to come out so bitter.

Davesprite sighs, looking almost serene except for the gaping wounds in his chest and stomach. "Don't give me that shit. You knew this was coming. Paradox, remember? I had to die." _But not like this,_ Dave wants to scream. _Not now. He's not ready yet._ Whether he means his present self or this future version, he's not sure.

But his sprite is still talking, more like rasping now. "Hey, remember to tell Jade-"

"Yeah, I know."

A smile. "Yeah. That. Never got to tell her, myself. Don't fuck up like that. Like me." He's beginning to dissolve, to unravel starting at the wing-tips and the ghostly tail.

Bro stirs. "What the fuck, man. Don't give me that shit. You kick ass, and I'm proud of you."

He had to know, had to time that one perfectly - Davesprite laughs. His back - what's left of it - arches. _"Ahh-!"_

A flash of blinding orange, a rustle of feathers, and then... "He's gone," Dave whispers. A handful of white-gold feathers flutter into his lap. He picks one up and stares at it, unbelieving.

His Bro coughs. "Yeah. Figured he didn't have much time left." Another cough, this one with more blood than before. "Me neither, come to think of it."

Dave moves closer, gathering his brother - his father - into his arms as much as he can. "Hey, shut the hell up. I'll fix this, I have to -" It's a baldfaced lie and they both know it. This is something that can't be fixed, not with all the time in the world.

"Yeah. You do that. Listen, I want you to know - I'm proud of you, too."

That's what breaks him. "You cocksucking son of a flea-bitten whore, you can go fuck yourself on half a dozen of your shitty-ass swords-" every curse he knows and some he's made up just for the occasion, bitten out through tears that are splashing down on Bro's face, his shirt, and he's laughing, mother of _fuck_ why is he laughing -

And with one last shudder, his chin falls slack to his chest.

Dave just kneels there for a moment, cradling the only father he's ever known and the best he could ever imagine. Then gently, gently lays him down, reaches over for his hat, places it in his hand and that on his chest, picks up Davesprite's medallion and places that in his other hand.

Then he retrieves his own shades and a single orange feather. When he rises it's tucked in the lapel of his suit, and he's all Knight of Time.

And he has a Sovereign to slay.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck, this is depressing. I cried writing it.
> 
> Also this is the most cursewords I've ever used in a single story.


End file.
